


Surrender

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Gladiatrix Series - Russell Whitfield
Genre: Ancient Rome, Ex-gladiators, F/F, Post-Canon, consummation of two books of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Lysandra comes to Rome for a rematch.





	Surrender

A slave boy came to her and bowed. “Domina, you have a visitor.”

She frowned. “I’m not expecting anyone. Who is it?”

“A Greek woman, I believe,” said the boy. “She said her name was Lysandra. Is she welcome?”

 _Lysandra._ Illeana’s eyebrows rose, a smile forming on her lips. “Yes, she’s welcome. Send her in.”

“Yes, Domina.”

The slave bowed again and exited the room. While he was gone, Illeana ran her hand through her brown hair, thinking. She hadn’t seen Lysandra since the end of the war in Dacia, and while she’d hoped at first that they’d meet again, there’d been no word from Lysandra so she’d given up all expectation of seeing her again. She wondered what brought Lysandra here now, after all this time.

Before she could do much wondering, however, Lysandra herself entered the atrium of Illeana’s Roman domus. Illeana composed herself, concealing her surprise at Lysandra’s visit.

“Lysandra of Sparta,” she said, straightening her back. “An honour.”

Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “Aemilia Illeana,” she replied. “Or should I say, Aesalon Nocturna?”

Illeana’s lip curled. “What brings you to Rome? Specifically, what brings you to my door?”

“I swore I would fight you again, do you remember?”

Illeana barked with laughter. “That was _years_ ago. You came all this way for a rematch?”

Lysandra’s strange blue eyes twinkled, and Illeana had to push away a spark of attraction. “Perhaps for something else, also,” said Lysandra, looking into Illeana’s eyes and grinning.

Illeana’s green eyes widened as she caught Lysandra’s meaning. “Perhaps you’ll get that too,” she said. “Are you ready?”

Lysandra nodded. “Lead the way.”

Illeana strode through her house and out the back door to her personal training grounds. Her sandalled feet stepped onto the sand, and she paused. Apart from the occasional spar, she hadn’t fought since her return home from Dacia; neither had she attended the gladiatorial games even as a spectator now that her lust for fighting had ended once she’d seen what happened in war. She was out of shape, and they both knew it. But as she sneaked a glance at Lysandra, she saw that her opponent wasn’t much fitter.

Illeana called for a slave to bring them swords. He presented her with two gladii, metal but not sharpened. She hadn’t much use for sharp swords now that she’d retired. She watched Lysandra examine the blades and shrug.

“This will do,” said Lysandra, taking one of the swords. “I have no desire to fight you to the death.”

Illeana took the other sword. She wanted to reply that she didn’t want that either, but what came out was not what she meant to say at all. “What _do_ you desire?” she asked instead, blinking her catlike eyes.

Lysandra blushed, reminding Illeana of her lesser sexual experience. “I desire the same as you, I imagine.”

“Probably.” Illeana grinned. “Till first blood, then?”

“Till first blood,” Lysandra echoed with conviction.

Illeana removed her silk stola and passed it to her slave. This left her in her tunic. She was used to fighting with very little clothing on, but didn’t think it necessary this time, as theirs wasn’t a serious bout. Lysandra had a similar idea, removing her travelling cloak but remaining in her Grecian tunic. _Hellenic_ tunic, as Lysandra would call it.

They faced each other now, unmoving.

“I thought this day would never come,” Illeana admitted. So much had happened and so much time had passed since Lysandra had promised to fight her again. Even now, she couldn’t quite believe this was happening at last.

“I always keep my word,” said Lysandra, staring Illeana down.

“I know,” Illeana said, and attacked.

Lysandra blocked her, remaining silent. She pushed Illeana’s gladius away, but soon their swords were clashing again. There were no real stakes to this fight, but still they moved with desperation, trying to get the upper hand against an opponent with equal ability and strength.

It didn’t take long before they were both puffing, neither of them as strong and fit as they were two or three years ago. Illeana gritted her teeth, swearing at herself. She could see Lysandra doing the same. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it – two former gladiatrices and soldiers tired after a few minutes of fighting.

Lysandra didn’t laugh. Instead, she thrust her sword forwards, scratching Illeana’s shoulder. Illeana winced, dropped her sword in the sand.

“I win,” Lysandra said, lowering her own sword.

“Because I let my guard down, not because you’re better than me.” Illeana scowled, examining her cut.

“We have equal skill and you know it.”

“You’re just gloating because I didn’t kill you this time.”

“Illeana, I am not gloating.”

Illeana looked up into Lysandra’s serious eyes and saw she spoke the truth. “You fought well,” she said, “for someone who can’t have touched a sword in two years.”

“As did you,” said Lysandra, letting her sword fall to the ground and reaching out to touch the skin around the scratch she’d put on Illeana. “You have never failed to impress me.”

A slow smile stretched Illeana’s lips. “Impress you?”

“In many ways,” Lysandra said, grabbing Illeana’s face and kissing her mouth.

 _Finally_ , Illeana thought as she melted into the kiss. There’d been an attraction between them since they’d first laid eyes on each other years ago, and she’d admitted it to herself – if not to anyone else – at the time, but she’d never thought Lysandra would dare initiate anything. She was glad to be proven wrong, though, and flattered that Lysandra had travelled all the way to Rome to see her, no matter how long it had taken.

Illeana’s hands wove their way through Lysandra’s black hair. She broke the kiss, gazing at Lysandra. Lysandra opened her eyes and smiled, meeting Illeana’s gaze. Her cheeks were pink.

“I do not know how to do this,” she said, wide-eyed. “The last time I had a lover… a decade ago…”

“Shh,” said Illeana, stroking Lysandra’s cheek. “It’s all right. You won’t lose me; we aren’t fighters anymore.”

“I want you,” Lysandra breathed. “So much.”

Illeana could have replied with a sarcastic “I know” but Lysandra’s vulnerability stopped her. Instead, she whispered, “Then stay with me.”

When she kissed Lysandra again, she knew they would be all right. Everything had changed, for both of them, and she didn’t miss the way things used to be. She focussed on the present as she always had, but this present was better, because it had Lysandra in it.

Everything was all right.


End file.
